


Sleep

by 401



Series: Breaking the Ice [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M, Nightmares, Sleep, Tony Stark Is Not Helping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:50:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is still being held at SHEILD and Steve needs him to get some sleep. Nothing has worked. Yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

Steve sat the table in the staff kitchen of the SHEILD offices, coffee in hand with his head resting on the table in exhaustion.

“You don’t have to stay up, Steve,” Bucky had said, “I’ll be just fine by myself.”  


Steve wouldn’t hear any of it, and he was paying the price for it now. Two nights straight of Bucky being utterly unable to fall asleep without being plunged into the throes of his nightmares had left Steve with aching temples and eyes red raw from rubbing.

“Steve, coffee’s spilling bro,” Sam shot out a hand to catch the sloshing mug in Steve’s clumsy hand.

Steve jumped up for a dishcloth and wiped the spill from the top of the cheap laminate dining table before slumping back into his seat.

“You’re gonna’ hit your peak,” Sam warned, “Real soon, too.”

Steve nodded. He already had. He had run out of ways, besides the medications he was adamantly against giving Bucky unless it was emergency, to get the soldier to fall asleep. Steve being in the room would help, Bucky might just lie there, eyes sagging every now and then. Sometimes his eyes would close, but within minutes he would gasp and snap upright, panting and his shoulders catching a sheen with sweat. Steve needed to be there when that happened. It was bad enough that Bucky was scared, he didn’t need to be scared _and_ alone.

“This is why I need him home with me,” Steve groaned, rubbing his eyes. Bruce pulled his hands down like a protective mother as he walked past, “If he was with me, I could…”  


Steve paused. He didn’t know what he would do differently. He would probably just end up being awake all night in his own house, but the thought of Bucky having a real home, not just another institution or cell, made Steve think that it would calm him a little. He thought about what Wanda had told him about. _Security and certainty._

Tony skipped into the kitchen.

“Frosty’s up,” he announced, flipping the chocolate bar he was eating into the air and catching it.

“Don’t call him that,” Steve deadpanned, Tony tried to protest and Steve pointed straight at him.

“Just. Don’t.”

Tony shrugged and sat down next to Sam on the edge of the table.

“He seems okay, pacing around looking like he’s lost his keys,” Tony explained, “Or plotting a murder, you know, the usual.”

 

Steve stood up, flexing his shoulders and sighing. He was too tired to argue with Tony for being insensitive.

“See you later,” Steve made for the door.

“He looks fine, Cap, really,” Stark seemed a bit more earnest this time.

Steve left anyway, basically drifting down the hallway he was so blurry with much needed sleep. _He looks fine._ That meant nothing with Bucky, Steve knew this from experience.

He pressed his thumb to the fingerprint reader on the door. A green light blinked, saying his name out loud with a robotic female voice. The door hissed open.

“Hey,” Steve announced himself.

Bucky was sitting on the edge of the single bed he was staying on. It was still made, neat hospital corners around the thin mattress.

He frowned at Steve in what looked like disappointment or distain.

“C’mon Steve, you need to go to bed!” Bucky sighed, “Why are you even in the building still?”

Steve smiled and rolled his eyes before sitting on the bed next to Bucky.

“Not gonna’ leave my best guy all alone now, am I?” Steve teased, brushing Bucky’s hair behind his ears and watching goose-bumps raise on his arms at the light touch.

“It’s not fair though,” Bucky looked Steve straight in the eyes, which was rare, “Just because I can’t…”

Steve shushed Bucky, pressing his thumb to his lips and using the rest of his hand to cup the soldier’s face. He could feel the short scruff on Bucky’s cheek against his fingers.

“Lie down,” Steve directed, giving Bucky’s shoulders a persuasive nudge.

Bucky slumped onto the pillows, a huff of frustration leaving his lips.

“Scoot over some for me,” Steve asked.

Bucky frowned in confusion, but shuffled to the edge of the bed and Steve climbed over him. This wasn’t their usual arrangement. Steve would usually sit and read on the chair on the other side of the room, text, write case reports, anything to pass the time. Right now, he knew that if he picked up a book, he would be asleep in seconds.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s middle, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing against his forearms. Steve buried his face into Bucky’s hair. He smelt of cheap, regulation shampoo, the same stuff in the showers at the gym downstairs.

“I’m not gonna’ fall asleep, Stevie,” Bucky mumbled, “You know I can’t,”

Steve pressed a kiss into Bucky’s hair, it tickled his nose.

“Try for me,” Steve whispered, slipping into a snooze himself.

He propped himself onto his elbow, hoping the upright position would liven him up. He stroked a long dark frond of Bucky’s hair back, scraping it behind his hair before tangling his fingers in the deep brown tresses and flexing his fingers slowly, feeling Bucky go loose and pliant against the massage.

“Mm, that’s great,” Bucky pressed his head back into the pressure.

Steve closed his eyes and leant against the pillows, continuing the rhythm with his left hand until Bucky’s breathing had slowed and turned to a quiet snore.

Steve sighed, smiling into the nape of Bucky’s neck. Bucky had always been a sucker for that, and Steve was surprised he hadn’t thought of it sooner. In Brooklyn, they would sit on their little couch, Bucky lying across Steve’s lap with a beer in his hand. Steve would play with his hair for hours, shorter then, military cut. Steve would have to catch Bucky’s beer when he fell asleep. One time he had missed it and it had clattered to the ground, glugging out its contents onto the ground. The sound had woken Bucky abruptly and he had sat up so fast he had butted Steve square in the face. He had broken his nose.

Steve blew a laugh at the memory before his eyes drooped shut and he tightened his arms around the finally sleeping soldier lying next to him.

Sure, he would have to explain to the rest of the squad why he was in Bucky’s bed, earn more remarks from Tony about how he ‘could keep his hands off him’, but Steve found it hard to care at this point. This was like it used to be. It was close enough, anyway. The feeling of shared heat and space, the sound of the other’s breathing. So familiar.

“G’night, Buck,” Steve murmured before letting fatigue overcome him.

 

 

 

 


End file.
